


Under the Mistletoe

by prubun



Series: RusPru One-Shots [45]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Nationverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27820042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prubun/pseuds/prubun
Summary: Ivan doesn't celebrate Christmas but is curious about a certain tradition.
Relationships: Russia/Prussia
Series: RusPru One-Shots [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1401427
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> ** [Posted: December 1, 2020] **
> 
> Happy December 1st! 🎄 I really wanted to write something festive and cute for the holidays so I wrote this little oneshot this morning using the generic, "Person A doesn't know what a mistletoe is and Person B has to tell them," trope. I really enjoy writing cute kisses between these two, I hope you guys like it as well! ^^
> 
> **Setting:** Nationverse, 1948, Russia  
> 

The first Christmas that Gilbert spent with Ivan was not a happy one; despite the dissolution being nearly a year prior, the wound it left was still open and painful. Ivan admitted to not handling it well either; even going to far as to think that Gilbert deserved what happened to him on some level, which he promptly felt guilt for. Ivan had suffered as well, Gilbert betrayed him, _hurt_ him, but there was still a part of him that cared deeply for him, and as a fellow nation, Ivan could sympathize with how everything was their fault even when it wasn't.

By the time Christmas rolled around, Gilbert was at least not sick anymore and could do simple tasks, he slowly took on being Ivan's assistant even if it was a bit strange at first. However, well into the second year, things changed — it got better. 

The second Christmas was fast approaching and this year, Gilbert was full of cheer. While Ivan didn't celebrate the holiday, Gilbert didn't care and one day came home from his errands with a ton of Christmas decorations, including a tree that he put in the foyer area and decorated with gaudy baubles and lights. It was definitely odd — Gilbert was usually more muted and monochrome, not... _this_. Even the other nations were confused and stayed far out of Gilbert's way as he raced around the house hanging garlands and wreaths. Ivan didn't understand it, but seeing Gilbert smile and be so lively again made him happy, and that was something he did understand.

A week or so before Christmas, Gilbert bought more decorations and Ivan's house soon looked like a Christmas wonderland. Aside from not celebrating, Ivan couldn't really complain — the colors and patterns fit his personal aesthetic, it created a warm, cozy feeling in the home, and, of course, all the cookies Gilbert had been making were a bonus as well.

But there was one decoration that Gilbert hung that Ivan thought was odd — a small, spiky-leafed plant with bright red and white berries that Gilbert was currently hanging from the center of a doorway. Ivan had seen the plant before but was unfamiliar with the tradition around it, and being naturally curious, Ivan approached and looked up at Gilbert, who was standing on his tiptoes to reach the high doorframe.

"Why are you hanging this here?" Ivan asked him as he tilted his head, his eyes watching Gilbert's fingers tie a string into a small knot.

"It's tradition," Gilbert responded curtly and Ivan pouted at the response.

"I know _that_ , but why? What's the tradition?" Ivan pressed and moved to stand more under the plant to get a better look. Gilbert then lowered his arms and stared directly at the other, his eyes wide; Ivan was standing _under_ it. Ivan just cocked his head — one could practically see the question marks pop up in his head. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Ivan questioned.

Gilbert didn't respond but took a step closer and stared at the other; his body was stiff but his eyes were determined with a purpose. Ivan thought about asking again; Gilbert's stare was starting to make him flush pink and butterflies fluttered in his belly. The gap between them closed and Gilbert's eyes slid shut as his lips pressed against Ivan's. Purple eyes widened further, his cheeks burned with heat, and his fingers twitched at his sides. Ivan couldn't believe that Gilbert was kissing him.

The kiss was soft and several seconds went by before Gilbert pulled back; his lips tugged a little on Ivan's as he parted. Ivan still wore that stunned expression although Gilbert was now also pink and had an expression of awkwardness, his pale brows furrowed and lips pursed.

"W-W-Why— What— Why— Did you—?" Ivan stammered, his hand came up in front of his reddened face, fingers splayed, the index finger touching his upper lip.   


Gilbert crossed his arms and averted his gaze. "You asked," he grumbled. "About the tradition. That's it. When people stand under it, they kiss," he explained through more muttering. Ivan still stared in shock but now his mind raced with the idea of the tradition and doing it more. 

Ivan then stepped a little closer, his eyebrows tight and eyes gleaming, lips sucked between his teeth. One hand came up to the bottom of Gilbert's shirt and he gave a slight tug. Gilbert glanced down and then back up, but as soon as he did, Ivan kissed him. This time it was firm and needy, Ivan's hands slipped around Gilbert's waist and held the small of his back, and held him against his body. Gilbert's eyes were wide and watched Ivan — the man's face was relaxed, eyes closed, his lashes touching his cheekbones. Within a few seconds, Gilbert melted, his hands rested on Ivan's chest as he kissed back. When Ivan pulled away, his heart still pounded, chest raised up and down with his breath. Gilbert's hands gripped in Ivan's thick sweater and then tugged him closer. Without a word, Gilbert kissed his lips again. And again. It started sweet — soft caresses to the other, but as he continued and Ivan kissed back, it became more passionate.

Ivan had pushed Gilbert to the doorframe and held him there as he kissed him deeply. Their tongues slipped together and they both grunted but neither stopped. Mouths pressed close, bodies flush against each other, both of their faces warm with the pleasure of kissing the other.

Gilbert didn't know what came over him; why he decided he wanted to kiss Ivan so badly, but he didn't spend much thought questioning it — Ivan's body, taste, and scent had his full attention. 

Eventually, they both stopped and panted towards each other. Ivan was the first to smile and chuckle awkwardly and Gilbert followed suit after. Ivan leaned his forehead against Gilbert's and stared into his pink eyes. 

"Tell me more about this tradition," Ivan inquired in a breathy tone. Gilbert inhaled softly and scanned over Ivan's face. 

"They say it's bad luck to refuse to kiss under a mistletoe," he spoke matter-of-factly, eyes locked on the other's.

"Guess we better keep kissing then, hm?" Ivan suggested as his eyes sparkled with hope.

"I don't really believe in luck," Gilbert replied, tightened his grip on Ivan's shirt, and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> **Hey! Thanks for reading!**   
>  **If you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a comment; it really helps me out a lot and keeps me motivated to write more 💕**
> 
> **Notes:**  
>  •I did some minor research on mistletoe since I wasn’t super familiar with the origin of it, which dates back to the 1500s. As mentioned by Gilbert in the fic, it was considered bad luck [for a woman] to refuse to kiss [a man] when under a mistletoe, but there’s also a tradition where you keep kissing until all the berries are plucked away, and once the berries are gone, so is the plant’s “kissing power.” But here’s the issue — real mistletoe berries are pretty toxic, so there are stories of people getting all smoochy...and then getting sick and even dying of poison. Because of that, I started to imagine Ivan and Gil in the 1700s kissing and eating the berries, then getting really sick.
> 
> **—**
> 
> **Social links:** <https://linktr.ee/prubun>


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